What do Bram Stoker, Oscar Wilde, William Butler Yeats and Jack White have in common? These men of letters have all held forth at Dublin's Trinity College's Philosophical Society. White, the White Stripes frontman and member of the Raconteurs and the Dead Weather, gave a surprise lecture there Sunday, Oct. 18. White, of course, is the latest raconteur, if you will, to speak at the Society, which was founded in 1683. The rocker was awarded Honorary Patronage, the highest award that the Society bestows and White now resides alongside the diverse likes of Senator John McCain, former House Speaker Newt Gingrich, Al Pacino, Gabriel Byrne, Dame Helen Mirren, U2's the Edge, Sir Bob Geldof and Pete Doherty.

White's 40-minute Q&A session with students turned into something of a lecture, as the 34-year-old Detroit native held court. According to reports, White engaged in a highly philosophical discussion, based in pop culture and name checking the likes of Britney Spears alongside Tom Waits and Bob Dylan. His comparative theories on authenticity, however, chose neither musician as being more artistically valid. Apparently, White sat on the fence and non-judgmentally said, "I don't know if Bob Dylan and Tom Waits are as authentic as I think they are. Perhaps they're not. Sometimes you start thinking that maybe Britney Spears, or someone like that who's doing exactly what they want to do in the way that they best know how, is more authentic than any of those people you could mention."

White also answered questions about his work with Dylan and country music legend Loretta Lynn, for whom he produced one album. White, who appeared in the recently-released music documentary 'It Might Get Loud' alongside Led Zeppelin guitar legend Jimmy Page and the Edge, visited Dublin while taking a break from recording the second Dead Weather album at his home in Nashville, Tenn.

Perhaps best of all for his fans, White rather teasingly chatted about long lost records he made early in his career. Apparently, when White worked in an upholstery shop in Detroit before he found international acclaim with the White Stripes, he was in a band called the Upholsterers. For some reason, one day he hid 100 copies of an EP, pressed in clear vinyl and covered in plastic, in 100 pieces of furniture he was upholstering. This unusual method of releasing his record condemned the budding guitar god's nascent work to living rooms and eventually, perhaps, the garbage dump. It's a sardonic pop culture statement if ever there was one -- we're sure Oscar Wilde would have approved.